


Trust

by magebird



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Codependency, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:30:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magebird/pseuds/magebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariadne reflects on Arthur and Dom's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** [Maybe I’m paraphrasing here, but – “If you won’t tell the rest of the team, at least tell Arthur.” ](http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/4946.html?thread=5783122#t5783122)

Ariadne could see the way Arthur looked at Cobb, even if Cobb couldn’t. She noticed almost the first day, while Cobb is explaining some bit of minutia, that Arthur was staring. At first, she’d thought it was at her, but she saw that his eyes moved as Cobb did, and that he didn’t notice her watching back.

Cobb had his own habits. There was the way he’d rest a hand on the back of Arthur’s chair whenever he leaned forward to speak to him, and the casual shorthand of gestures and looks that passed between them as easily as breathing. He was able to read Arthur perfectly, and see worlds of meaning where Ariadne could only see a raised eyebrow or a different set to his shoulders.

Once, she’d mentioned it to Eames, and he’d shrugged and said they’d always been that way.

“It’s why they work well as a team,” he told her as he flipped through a stack of photos, all of the man he was planning to impersonate, “In the end, we’re just peripherals, m’dear. It’s Arthur and Cobb who’ll still be joined at the hip long after this job is over.”

It stung a little to hear that, but Ariadne was too curious to take offense. “How long have they been together?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Eames shrugged, pulling out a single photo and studying it intently. He put the photo on the table next to him, “Years. Since before I knew either of them. I think Cobb was the one who got Arthur into extraction, but that was back before they were thieves.”

“What were they before they were thieves?” Ariadne asked, and Eames shrugged again.

“You’d have to ask them.”

That was part of the reason Ariadne was so stunned to find herself in possession of a secret that Cobb hadn’t told Arthur. It made her feel… Well, like an interloper on their trust. Before finding out about Mal, she had been able to assume that anything Cobb told her, Arthur would know as well, but suddenly she found herself biting her tongue. She almost wanted to blurt it out, to restore the balance. To know what Cobb was fighting against and to know that Arthur had no idea was... Frightening, in a way. It was as though there were actually monsters under the bed, and the person she could trust to stop them didn’t even know they were there.

She had seen Arthur comforting Cobb, though, after Cobb came out of one of his dreams with Mal. It hadn’t ever been anything specific—Hell, Arthur didn’t even know exactly what was wrong, though everyone could see when Cobb was shaken by one of his dreams. But there was an understanding between them, and Ariadne wondered if perhaps her knowledge of the specifics of Cobb’s problem in fact didn’t give her any better insight or ability to help than Arthur had. Arthur didn’t need specifics. He had something more important than that.

Arthur had known Cobb before Mal, known him before he’d been shattered by her death. He knew the shape that Cobb was supposed to be in, and Arthur could see that shape in Cobb still, even through the brokenness and pain. Ariadne only knew what was causing the cracks. She couldn’t even begin put him back together, she could only cut herself on the sharp edges.

The subject had only come up between her and Arthur once, and he had been tight-lipped. He’d answered her questions plainly enough, but again Ariadne had gotten the sense that she was treading on territory that was somehow sacred or taboo, a place that even Arthur didn’t wander without care. 

“She was lovely,” he’d told her, in a voice that didn’t want to go into detail. 

_Yeah, lovely_ , Ariadne had thought later, when she tried to put together everything she knew about Cobb and understand. _Lovely enough to threaten anyone who got close to Cobb with the broken end of a champagne glass._

Or maybe _that_ was why Cobb didn’t let Arthur in. If Mal had reacted so violently to Ariadne, how much more angry would she be with the one person Cobb still truly trusted and relied on? Could Cobb even contain her, if she decided that she was threatened by Arthur, that she wanted him gone? 

The Mal of Cobb’s subconscious didn’t seem lovely. She seemed ruthless and jealous and vengeful. Ariadne didn’t think Cobb wanted Arthur to see that, though whether it was because of what it said about Mal or what it said about him, she couldn’t say.

But it didn’t seem to make a difference that she didn’t tell Arthur what she’d seen in Cobb’s head. Arthur was still the man Cobb leaned on, and Cobb was still the one Arthur strove to please. That was certain and unshakeable, and Ariadne sometimes wished that she had something like that, something that she could rely on with such confidence.

So when Arthur stared out at the water, and said that Cobb was lost, Ariadne was startled. Didn’t he realize that Cobb had an anchor? That bond was more powerful than any totem, or any shade.

And so she shook her head, and looked away as she told him, “He’ll be fine.”

She didn’t know if Arthur believed her, but she knew in her heart that it was true.


End file.
